


spring birthed the queen of night

by gatheredfates (seafaringheart)



Series: Prompt Collections [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Or more Tess' parents telling her she'll be fine and her being like, Pep Talks With Parents, WAH, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafaringheart/pseuds/gatheredfates
Summary: who met the sun at dawn.A wedding fic inspired by @RGSpanner's/@trashasaurusrex gorgeous art on Twitter!
Relationships: Tess Greymane & Anduin Wrynn, Tess Greymane/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Prompt Collections [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803685
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	spring birthed the queen of night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hi, what up? It's been a while.  
> Anyway, this idea was an absolute brainworm I smashed out in one day and only lightly proofread. If there are any glaring errors -- well, you know why.
> 
> If you like my writing, consider following me on Twitter @saltandseas where I never shut up about this pairing ever.

The revelry had commenced well into the night – a drunken flood of Alliance patriots singing shanties, firing all manner of gnomish fireworks, and dancing by bonfires that littered the outer reaches of Stormwind’s stone walls. Such was the joy of the morn that kept them from their beds, the knowledge of what was yet to come.

More than anything Tess wished that she could join them. A drunken stupor was not the _first_ time she had tackled a major life event, though common sense told her she would regret that choice more than the absence of liquor. But it did not make sleep any easier. Instead, with blankets in hand, she pulled herself towards the balcony and sat by the stone guardrail, listening to the chants of the people below.

“To th’ King of Stormwind! To his new Queen!”

* * *

Her mother’s wrinkled hands smoothed the lace with practiced ease, unperturbed by the lady’s maids who gaggled aimlessly in the room beyond, and even less so to Tess’ eyes gone glassy in the mirror. It was not regret that coated them, but uncertainty – a fretful acknowledgment of circumstances she knew one day would come to pass. Fairy tales and books could not prepare her, nor could any stories from regents and kings. The chiffon and tulle were seldom seen in even royal affairs, even less so when one opted for leather, and yet she held herself with a practiced elegance of the Gilnean monarchy that could only make Mia proud.

“You look beautiful,” she soothed, watching as her daughter came back to her from her bought of tense anxiety. Near a quarter of a century had passed, and yet she still found it hard to believe that the babe she held in her arms would soon meet her husband at the altar. Tess let out a nervous laugh, a hand reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear, and though she sought her reassurances they were wrought with that self-same sarcastic deprecation.

“—Like a princess?” She asked. Mia shook her head.

“No, my darling, like a queen.”

Tess inhaled sharply through her nose, allowing it to fill her lungs before it passed slowly through her mouth. _Not just of Gilneas, but the Alliance._

“I feel like I haven’t the slightest idea what to do.”

Mia’s hand slipped down to her own, gently turning her daughter so that they faced each other – tiger’s eye to stormy grey. And yet, for all the might in those eyes, they were poised. Ever stalwart, ever certain. She squeezed her fingers.

“No one really knows, but it is enough that you will try.” She smiled. “You are stubborn, Tess. You have that from your father. As unwavering as it is, that determination will lead you more than any tutelage or books. It’s what has striven you to do what you think is right.”

“What I think is right…” Tess echoed. She thought back to her adventures in the Uncrowned; the blood, sweat and tears she’d poured into making the world _right_. It was unorthodox, but she had seen it through to the end. To that, she returned the smile.

“You didn’t know what you were doing?”

Mia laughed.

“I did not.” Pushing herself onto her tiptoes, she kissed her forehead and spoke her praise upon the skin. “But I am, and I will always be, proud of you. Were your brother here, he’d say the same.”

* * *

Tess found her father pacing by the street.

Genn Greymane was, by all accounts, an impatient man – quick to anger, slow to dissipate, and as sharp as a whip. Answering to Anduin had done little to temper the beast (whether nature versus nurture or something in between) and, even now, he felt as imposing as he did when she was sneaking through the manor at five summers old. Their relationship had always been tentative, born of blood relation more than open affection, and it would be a lie to say she was not rueful at his insistence of a ‘diplomatic’ relationship

 _‘If he shall force me to the altar, he will most certainly not walk beside me!’_ It had not been the first time her status as princess was bargained like a chip, a token to which men could elevate themselves within the Gilnean court for power and prestige. The first time she’d protested Liam watched her frantically, fingers splayed in an open palm that broke no opposition, and even as he tried to explain that such was the role of fathers, she would not have it.

‘You will walk me instead. I won’t have it any other way.’

A cruel irony.

Her hand lifted to cough into the closed palm, catching Genn’s attention from his listless waiting. As he turned to look at her – he stalled.

What did he see? Not a child. Not a sickly thing swaddled in the safety of the castle kept alive by prayers and Krennan Aranas’ potions. She was present, she was beautiful, and she was _alive_. Beneath the refinery, the ferality was omnipresent – not a worgen but, by all accounts, not far off.

As she descended the steps whose stones were made grey by mother-of-pearl, his hand reached to catch her own and glide her down to the lower floor. He took a measure of her then, the loose-pinned curls, the wedding dress, but mostly her eyes as they shifted from the gilded carriage and ambling servants up to his own.

She cocked a brow. A silent question. For what strained communications they both claimed to have, they had a funny way of reading each other.

“I didn’t realise how much you have… grown up.” _How consumed by the past he was that he never thought to look._ There was an unpleasant twist in the pit of Genn’s gut as he scowled. “Tess, I –”

“Father, you don’t need to explain –” She tried to interject, placing her free hand atop of his own. He shook his head in answer.

“—Yes, I do. I want you to know that you have a choice in the matter – that even if you were to pull out now, I wouldn’t stop you. You are your own person; one with agency and choice.”

Though gruff, the sentiment of his words burned brightly beneath the rough, causing Tess’ eyes to crinkle at the corners.

“I love him.” Amidst the uncertainty of everything else, that was her constant. Like a heartbeat it repeated itself in quiet, reassuring tones; a comfort when all else felt as if though it were spinning out of control. _I love him, I love him, I love him._ “I wasn’t forced. Not for this.”

Genn was silent. He weighed his words and the tempestuous guilt he wrangled since he and his daughter had first butted heads on the matter. She because she felt as if though she hadn’t any agency – that, perhaps, she was falling for Anduin because it was expected of her – and he for the realisation of the effect his actions had upon his daughter.

It was a little-known secret that Liam had been his fixation. His son, his heir and the future king. After his death and Gilneas’ loss, it had always been about revenge and reclamation no matter the cost. Only now was he accepting the repercussions. With a tug of her hand Tess was ushered closer, her surprise muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he embraced her, and the exclamation of “Father!” was less heard and more felt in the stiffness of her frame.

He held her for a moment there. At first, Tess was rigid and confused. Affection was a rare phenomenon from her father and often off-putting, but as he carefully petted her hair, he felt her slowly sink into the hug.

“You will make an exceptional queen,” he said. “Gilneas, no – the Alliance – could not want for better.”

“Do you think so?” Tess leaned back, her voice no louder than a mouse. Her hands rested on his arms, the tension seeping into her fingers, but Genn remained steadfast. They were never good with words, but this he could speak truly.

“Yes, I do.”

It was Tess’ turn to be silent, but her face spoke more than words could ever say. The corners of her eyes welled with water, a momentary weakness, and as she gasped and reached her hands to wipe them away Genn chose to take her cheeks in the palms of his hands and thumb them away himself.

“Thank you –” she choked, hard to say if it was to his words or his actions. A lump formed in Genn’s throat, but he turned his head and coughed it away.

“We best be off before you’re late,” he said sternly. Tess couldn’t help but laugh.

“Anduin has more patience than both of us combined. I think a moment or two longer won’t bother him.”

* * *

Petals fell like multi-coloured snow down from the rafters of the Cathedral District – her denizens jam-packed in the streets, pressed to the windows and looming over the roofs. Tess could see them from her little rounded window as the carriage slowly parked, the peoples’ wide-eyed stares, their waving hands and excitable grins. In the wake of so much tragedy, a bought of good news was rejuvenating. They had waited for this day for months; some travelling from as far as Teldrassil, or even the Exodar. They craned over each other to have a look at the princess as she crossed the threshold to the cathedral, its magnificent structure so often a looming threat to her flimsy adherence to the light. She could not help but feel nervous at first, something Genn picked up as he waved away the attendant who tried to open the door.

“Take as long as you need. No matter the crowd, we are in no rush.”

There was a short pause before she shook her head. “No… No, I think I’m ready,” Tess replied. Genn watched her for a moment, checking for signs of hesitation before he nodded and opened the door himself. As he stepped out his hand extended once more, and she took it firmly.

A cheer erupted from the populace as she emerged from the carriage, startling her into her father’s expectant hold. Truth be told, she had not expected such a herald, and it caused her to let out a small giggle.

“This was… unexpected.”

“Why? You’re their new queen,” Genn simply replied. He flashed her a small, crooked smile. “Come, let’s get you inside.”

The stained-glass windows weaved a kaleidoscope upon her dress, the crowd a sea parting for her trail down the aisle. As Tess held firmly to her father’s arm, he let his pace guide her past the pews and towards the elevated platform housing the holy altar. It was there he saw him in the distance on those steps, a pleasant, nervous smile exchanged to Jaina and Velen who had presented themselves for the occasion. But on Jaina’s noticing and a little nudge to his arm, Anduin turned his head.

His eyes went wide, though his grin was wider. Dressed in white, gold and Alliance blue, he was ever the picturesque king she had come to know him to be, and his smile was infectious.

She grinned back.

On spring air the queen of night was born, and she met the sun at dawn.


End file.
